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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22968460">An Attempt Was Made</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentx13/pseuds/agentx13'>agentx13</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel 616</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, sharon carter month</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:00:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>727</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22968460</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentx13/pseuds/agentx13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharon and Steve invite Natasha and Bucky over for dinner. Everyone gets distracted. Then distracted again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Sharon Carter Month</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Attempt Was Made</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>IT'S SHARON CARTER MONTH AGAIN! Which means I apologize in advance for all the fics I'll be posting. I've been working on them for the better part of a year (screw you, Endgame. You don't exist in my timeline). Not even I know what's in them anymore! I'm actually already working on some for next year.</p><p>Anyway, I hope you enjoy! And if you'd like something that you might have to wait for (forever), let me know.</p><p>And now, if you would be so kind as to join me in a time when everything was all right and we had nothing but hope for the future...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You made the table?” Steve asked in surprise as he cut through the dining room. Of course, in their modest apartment, the room was more of a nook.</p><p>“Are we not make-the-table people?” Sharon answered. She and Steve <i>did</i> tend to make the table when they were going to eat, but Bucky and Natasha didn’t entirely seem like make-the-table people. They were adaptable, sure, but this was the first time she and Steve would have them over as a couple for a nice, domestic dinner.</p><p>“We’re make-the-table people,” he confirmed. He disappeared into the kitchen again. She could smell the spaghetti sauce, thick and sweet in the air.</p><p>She circled the table again, moving napkins and glasses and silverware a fraction of an inch this way or that. “But are <i>they</i> make-the-table people?”</p><p>He stuck his head out of the kitchen and surveyed the scene. “Are you <i>nervous?</i>” His voice was incredulous. “The unflappable Sharon Carter? Nervous?”</p><p>“I flap,” she muttered. “Sometimes.”</p><p>“Not very often.”</p><p>She shrugged. After a moment, she moved one of the water glasses, considered, and moved it back.</p><p>Steve grinned and strode to her side. “It’ll be fine,” he told her. “They’re just coming over to hang out. We’re good company.”</p><p>She made a face.</p><p>“We have wine,” he amended.</p><p>That, she had to admit, was a stronger argument. The four of them were friends, sure, and they got along well enough, but none of them were particularly domestic. Or at least, Bucky and Natasha weren’t domestic. She didn’t think. </p><p>“We don’t have to impress them,” Steve assured her.</p><p>She nodded. “I know,” but it was said with little conviction. She toyed with some of the silverware, dropping it to the table when Steve slowly turned her to face him.</p><p>“I could try and help you relax,” he suggested.</p><p>“Could you?” She was game if he was. They had a couple minutes. Suddenly, she envisioned a night of trying to get in little touches with each other where they could, a game where they saw how far they could get without Natasha or Bucky noticing. Probably not far, but it could still be fun.</p><p>He grinned and lifted her by her hips, setting her on the edge of the table.</p><p>Her back arched, and she cried out, “FUCK!”</p><p>“I’m about to,” he said, confused by how quickly – and loudly – she’d gotten into it.</p><p>“No, no. The fork!”</p><p>“The fuck?” His brow was furrowed, convinced he’d misunderstood her.</p><p>“No, the <i>fork!</i>” She squirmed to try to pull the fork out from under herself, but she moved wrong, and the tongs dug into her flesh.</p><p>“The-” Realizing she seemed to be in pain, he quickly picked her up and set her on her feet. The fork fell to the ground just as the doorbell rang.</p><p>Sharon ground her teeth and rubbed her ass cheek. “You get that,” she said. She hissed and rubbed her cheek some more. “I’ll get a clean fork.”</p><p>Steve immediately dropped to pick it up for her, and she was halfway through thanking him when she saw his grin. She slapped his arm. His grin widened. “What? It’s kind of- I mean.” He wiped the smile from his face. “I’ll kiss it and make it better later,” he promised. The doorbell rang again, and they parted ways.</p><p>Sharon stayed in the kitchen as she heard Natasha and Bucky come in, wondering how she could sneak an ice pack under her skirt in front of company. Natasha was in the doorway before she could even get the ice pack out of the freezer.</p><p>“Everything okay?” Natasha asked. “James and I were in the hall and thought we heard screaming.”</p><p>“Everything’s fine,” Sharon lied. She realized she was still holding the fork and dropped it in the sink. “Fork got knocked off the table.”</p><p>“That explains it,” Natasha said wisely.</p><p>As she got a clean fork from the drawer, Sharon noticed that Natasha’s hair was mussed. She’d tried to fix it up again, but to very little avail. “You- did you- Were you two having sex in our hallway?”</p><p>Natasha smoothed some of her hair. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, Sharon.” She grinned. “An attempt was made.” She paused. “How’d the fork get knocked off the table?” she asked.</p><p>Fuck. She knew. Natasha always knew.</p><p>“An attempt was made,” Sharon admitted.</p>
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